Friday Thanks... she said I was "hawt!"

01) hanging out with my DUDE, we will chill for the next week or so.
02) the Monkey gets to meet the butterfly. (LOL)
03) a really great night of poetry and music. It was great to be an AUDIENCE member.
04) love and baby steps.
05) finding myself.
06) a new frontier
07) good orderly direction
08) friends, messages and texts, thanks.. LOL!
09) chillaxing
10) knowing... just peace in knowing
11) laughing and smiles..
12) unexpected compliments from random folk. it's nice to be reminded that I am devilishly cute! (LOL)
13) a hot a** group piece with Stacy and B-Fran...

human trafficking piece for show

Mary of Bethany III

i was once some one’s daughter;
held tightly against protective bosoms,
feed spoiled and spilt milk dreams
that could never satisfy my voracious appetite.
i need to be full(filled).
i’ve seen what seems
like my motherless blood streams
burst at seams
let loose my woman child
expose her girl inside.
then she, I and we
clasp hands and hearts
as we watch our child (hood)
collapse, expand and unfold.
flow through vast green valleys
rolling bountiful through mountainous ranges;
only to be swallowed whole by the cold desolate desert sands.
disastrously unpredictable and painstakingly beautiful!
my life, stretched before and behind me
was once a series of yellow parking lines
tucked in a ghetto or concrete jungle.
cracked, disheveled and obsolete.
paralyzed to most eyes,
i am a delusion
speeding so fast.
I stood still!
never yielding,
junked illusions
plagued me
like broken rusted cars,
vagrants searching for their next fix,
and the heated steam that rushed from me just after
a summer rain!
yet I appear vacant.
my golden stripes,
shaded and faded fall
desperately deep into the
dense asphalt cradling the reality of my existence..
i am searching to blend and fill in.
i feast upon blandness and nothingness.
that emptiness sustains me,
like my life
it spans a billion miles each way
i turn..
i have aged and grayed
laying on my back;
traveled rail tracks;
tucked memories in knapsacks
stuck thumb in the wind;
vowing to never turn back..
each time
i sought myself
i’d find myself off track
brought back
bushwhacked,
attacked
beaten blue and black..
So I stay..
and weigh the weight
of lighted burdens wrapping me
holding me tightly
strangling me gently..
snatching me from tribal familiar
stolen before I ever knew my name..
they’ve tattooed highways,
and byways along my veins,
i am human cargo modernized slave..
i once called stop signs my father,
and street corners, mother.
i was born under
a black tarred highway
somewhere between hellfire and damnation.
linking death to liberation,
anticipation to desperation
expectation to trepidation.
the pungent confused condition
of enslavement
is the only constant I know..
aside from the lamp post lights
which rise, like the morning sun
so
i call stop signs padre,
street corners, madre,
they look over me,
protect me..
i cannot be human.
what else would birth a whore?
i was once someone daughter,
I just don’t know whose?


kdtaylor, 2009
section 8 coffee
all rights reserved

We Kilt the 4th...

or at least the little balled up fist one in the middle did!!!!

gratefulme....

01) the strength to breathe, even when I believe I can't or won't.

02) g.o.d.

03) amazing growth

04) resiliency

05) great friends - i am thankful, grateful and astonished that after all this, we're still here.

06) you trusting me, my knowledge, my opinion... DAMN thanks Cuz.

07) my sex in the city we kilt the 4th b crew...

08) my monkey!!! rediscovering me.

09) long nights

10) your presence, it was wonderful.

11) staying in my lane, and prayerfully the continued respect from others to remain out of mine..

12) thursday night step lessons...

13) the shade of an ELM Tree...

14) I Corinthians 13

There in SPIRIT - Spit Fiyah!!!

An oldie for a hella poet!!! She doesn't know she is just as good, if not better than some of the writing that hit the stage. I say this not because she calls me her mentor or because she is one of my favorite writers as well... I say this because, I want her, like I want anyone else with dedicated potential to make a true effort to be a part of who and what we are about to become. I say this because she reminds me of a time when me, Brian, KA, Love and Ron would get together and write..... Writing not for anything other than to write (there was no liquor-no smoke-no hanging - just writing!), because if we didn't write and share our idealistic passion and prose we would truly die. Writing not because of inspiration by another writer's style, prose, verse, style or words, writing because.. hell, if we didn't it didn't feel like breathing... I write this because I want her to know that I have all the confidence in the world in her and her abilities... I write this to right the wrong in her which does not allow her to fully grasp who she is with a pen... to remind her that it is and will always be, the passion behind the words that must be conveyed. and while I am not your butterfly, I know that I have a special place in your world. and on this day, I do for you what Mo does for me.... PUSH YOU...... I hope this puts you on blast and pushes you beyond your mental limitations.... And have what I will always have for you, even when you're exhausted and feel you can't write another word, spit another piece, memorize another poem... tell you that you can and you will.... Cousin, pop your collar, it's time to shine... you can and you will.....

solemn and not blue

to say that i love you is an understatement,
misrepresentation....
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
solemn and not blue,
i am worn at the seams like
an aged book,
peeled, cracked, used...
##############
I can read myself like my favorite novel,
skim words,
skip detail,
and know innately
how to re-write
and write
to right
each and every the chapter..
the characters,
always fill the
same voids
re-named to save
lives, lies and identities...
----------
how did i get here?
============
Again?
*****************
i've stopped running in sneakers, cuz i'm still not as swift as my last truthful thought.
and no matter how swift i may be, i can't chase you out my mind...
\\\\\\\\\\
not like i want to
//////////
what's a girl to do?
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

quiero, quiero ser frío

OVERHEARD - The ever changing weather in Texas. Everyone was basically discussing how blue they felt, since it was frigging 80 degrees earlier this week! "Weather affects my mood.. .."

Quiero, Quiero ser Frio
I want to be cleansed by the acrid mist.
I want to sluggishly plummet
from heartrending eyes.
Descend the break of rise
to fall upon nimbostratus cheeks…
I am drizzle.
I am humid moisture.
I want to float among the
grizzled sky and blackened
approaching night.
I am clouded.
I am numb.
I want to stand in the cold.
I want to freeze from the
inside out
outside and back
in again.
I don’t want to feel.
I am deadlocked.
I am an ambitiously
flummoxed struggle;
my wit and will
hinge frantically fraught
against the fraying strands
of hope and faith.
My frailties fragilely
failing my humanness.
I willingly
lay lifelessly against
my last straw.
Flimsy I know.
Lately and constantly,
I am easily broken.
I am smashing
thoughts against wreck and havoc.
I am a billion cracked raucous
expressions ravenously
searching it’s voice.
It’s whole.
It's being.
I am searching for me.
I am fully void.
Up till now I’ve had my fill.
I’ve had more than my share…
I am thunder,
silently.
I am rain,
drying.
I am love,
hating.
I am loathe,
adoring.
I am distraught feelings turning
their back against themselves.
I don’t want to think.
I don't want to hurt.
I want to stand in the cold.
Rip away clothing, skin, flesh and bones.
I am INVISIBLE!
Transparent.
I am exposing myself
my soul
for the very first time.
I am nakedly free.
I am a universe of inhibitions
gravitating to myself.
Attaching myself to
myself
orbiting a confused state of ponderance.
I am an explosion.
I am an implosion. .
I am a deceptive inception
of existence.
Momentary.
I know.
I want to stand in the cold.
I want to coil into fetal position
entreat and weep.
I want to sobbingly beg
in the tongue
of a forgotten apostle
or fallen angel.
I want to courageously betray all my heart knows.
I am a traitor,
treacherously and faithfully betraying.
Yet.
I want to pray.
I just don’t know how.
I am clouded.
I am numb.
I am pain.
I want to stand in the cold.
I don’t want to feel.
I want to be cleansed.
kdtaylor, 2009
Section 8 Coffee Publications
All Rights Reserved.

olive juice, hugs and kisses

after 231 hours and 18 minutes, I have hope stained sheets
and pillow top tears of memories past
I cling to a blanket which holds your fragrant scent, it continues to
mesmerize, linger and last
and I ask
is this what it means to have your nose wide open because my heart searched for you, my familiar notion
and your absence
despite my presence
remained in the air well into my first night without you.
the next morning, your essence was etched into the sky’s blue
but the sun scorched a coldness which in this lifetime I swore I’d never knew
I am chilled at the thought of miles and time
that separate me from my life line
seconds flow
yet, moments slow
and my world, my moon and my sun, orbit and spin
to a stand still
I am no longer convinced it has spun to spin out of control
but it is only you I want to hold
my arms ache from holding space which was once filled with you
I clutch to the curve, the bend, the fold of an hour glass
sand falls freely like memories past
flows like your blood bumping thru our veins
causing my heart to beat
flows like your breath filling our lungs
allowing me to breathe
flows like your thoughts occupying my mind
and it’s only our dreams I speak of
flows like your pains that slip from our lips
when I am asking for prayers from the Lord above
I clutch to the curve, the bend, the fold of an hour glass
sand falls freely like memories past
it’s been 231 hours and 22 minutes and counting,
since I last felt your heartbeat next to mine
and I ask myself , am I losing time or am I losing my mind
cuz’ I ‘m drowning in the sand
that has fallen between what stands
between you and I, us, we and our future
and yes, yes, Baby, I am sure
after seventy two hours basking in the shadows of your smile,
I no longer felt like myself after awhile
somehow things within my soul had changed
and my life’s plan was rearranged
may, I ask for another seventy two hours, if not forty years
of your time to witness you conquer your fears
and when needed, kiss away every single tear
I beg of you, give me the time your parents gave to each other
I ask of you, let no one put asunder…..
because after 231 hours and 24 minutes I continue to long for touch
give me 40 minutes if not 40 years to show you that I love you so much……..


i don't know..... good night..

A reminder...

TO A FRIEND...

Sometimes the most foolish thing you can do is continue in a relationship, that in the minds of most reasonable, rational, clear-thinking, healthy individuals would be easily identified as a mistake, walk away from and never look back. Not us. It is our dis-EASE that causes us to seek approval from people whom, we may never ever, receive it from. There will be few nods and little recognition. We love, people, who, are emotionally unavailable, or weighed with past hurts and distrusts which prevent them from trusting us, our behaviors and our words. People who can never see us for who were are. People who, say they want someone to love them unconditionally. Love them with conviction. Love them with passion. But can never return the same love.

It is foreign, a mythical illusion which they believe is possible for themselves, but are limited in their capacity to let go and love. To be vulnerable. Yet we continue try, believing somehow that we will say the right thing, do the right thing, become angry enough to snap them into reality, see us for who we are, and say "I am a changed person. Wow, I've been waiting for you all my life! Look what you've done." That realization never occurs, we are left healing in the hurt we caused for ourselves. Leaving us empty, leaving us selfless. Perhaps it is in fact, a self-esteem issue, disguised in arrogance and false confidence. Or a quiet weakened dignity that allows us to accept less than what we truly deserve. It hurts and we lash. We lash out in angered disappointment despising ourselves with each word. Words which are in fact boomerangs, means of us telling ourselves the truth. The curses and spewed hate aimed at another are self inflicting, designed to humiliate the core of ourselves. I hurt, so shall you.......

Love wrapped in a shiny paper laced with ignored ignorance and plummeting self worth has a way of preventing us from seeing the truth.... It is not love...Depending on another for your happiness or a definition of who you are is fool hearted. Yet, you do... Disillusioned, and hurt, you swallow tears choking on the bland reality that perhaps this is what love is truly about. It is not. And while you may fear being alone, you will learn that those you are most attracted to share your dis-EASE, even if their symptoms are the polar opposite of yours.

There are no knights in shining armor or princesses to be rescued from towers. There are no magical shoes or beans. A kiss will never wake you from that comatose state. No dwarfs will pop out of the woods to assist you in healing until you are able to love again. There is no Captain John Smith to see your exotic beauty and truly appreciate it. There is no one who will wage wars to protect your name and reputation. The reality is unless we change our behaviors, there will be no happy endings, only endless marathons of promises soon to be broken and infinite final goodbyes left unspoken.

Waking every morning believing today will be the last one with no weakened hello at the end of the day to help us forget. An elixir numbing the pain and disappointment that you will call love. The saddened state you would call a relationship. Because you are afraid to leave. And fear remaining...... So you stand, face to face, deadlocked... In silent apprehension and brazen dread... Not wanting to accept the truth of the emotion or the moment of truth.

Nobody m/loves no one gets hurt.. but Baby girl, someone has to m/love and yes, someone will always get hurt.....

Another Again.. I'm challenging all who read to do this!!

5 minutes with Kimberley D Taylor (the poet formerly known as Thir13Teen). I sound good already.

If money didn't matter what would you do with your life? I move to a place where no one knew me. I would wake up every morning and go to Starbucks to people watch. I would create stories, poems and prose about them and place them in a book entitled: section 8 coffee presents: 13's conversation with self.

What's the biggest misconception about you? I don't like people, I'm mean.. I like everyone I meet. i just don't consider everyone I meet a friend.

Beauty or brains? Brains. I love intelligence, quick wit and sarcastic humor.

What is your weapon of choice? If I gave into my current state of mind, I'd say REVENGE to (Live well. It is the greatest revenge. The Talmud) and better than I have til this point. However, I've been practicing kindness. I was reminded by a childhood friend of my heart before I lost my Grand. Incidents that occurred in junior high school principle and later a high school counselor, who in the end (because of my behavior) told me (when i was about to be kicked out of school) "young lady, you succeeded. you are capable of killing people with kindness, go back to class."

Who was your first celebrity crush? I guess maybe, Robert Hooks from the White Shadow.

What's your family's nickname for you? My Grand had a way of calling me her favorite grandchild when ever we greeted by phone or in person.... I miss that. My Dad calls me KD.... My niece and nephew call me Auntie Kimmie and I love the way their sing song pronunciation rings in my ears...

What is your most embarrassing guilty pleasure? My $1000.00 a year crack addiction at Starbuck's Coffee.

What's the last book you've read? The Wisdom of Crowds and Black Pain.

Name one thing that scares you? Dying alone.

What's the biggest mistake you've made? Not staying with my grand, the night I won the San Antonio Slam. That was our very last time together.

Who would you cast to play you in a movie about you? Nia Long

If you ran for President of the United States, who would be your running mate? Bill Maher, some body's got to be there when it gets ugly.

Who is your favorite TV mom? Angela Petrelli from Heroes.. She is so protective and ruthless it's ridiculous.

What's the fastest way to pick a fight with you? Making unwarranted rude/ugly statements. Generally I'm polite, even when i am being "mean".

If you could tell one person to shut up, who would it be? Probably myself every time I'm about to stick my foot in my mouth.

Who would you die for? They're already dead. I would love to be courageous and list names (like my niece, nephew or sister). I truly believe it would be spontaneous.... The act of dying for another....

Name one celebrity with whom you would never procreate under any circumstances? Flava Flav.

It would be an honor if some said my writing/poetry reminded them of_____________. Etheridge Knight or Chris Lee.

Name one sex act you would never perform if you were the opposite sex? Don't come near my ass with anything....

Would you ever pose for Playgirl/Playboy? Huh, no!

When was the last time you cried? last night, over spilt milk.

What's the greatest personal tragedy you've ever experienced? The death of my village (in this order, my mother, great aunt, great-grand, favorite aunt, grand).

Complete this sentence: By this time next year______________. I will be better than I am today.

juz cuz...

Are you goin to scarborough fair? parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Without no seams nor needlework, then she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to find me an acre of land, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Between the salt water and the sea strand, then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. And to gather it all in a bunch of heather, then shell be a true love of mine.

Are you goin to scarborough fair? parsley, sage, rosemary and thymeRemember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine

yo y el mono en la pared

Overheard..
last night, I probably heard too damn much...
i went out for what i believed to be a chill night.. it wasn't.. most of you who read my blog were there, and witnessed it. there's no need to go into it..

My HORRIBLESCOPE for today:
Aquarius (1/20-2/18)
This is a phase in your life where you should try to organize negative feelings
Try to live up to your expectations today -- responsibility is a key issue for you and all it takes is one big show for you to feel incredibly good about yourself. Of course, others feel even better about you!

WTF for real? come on!
okay well a sum of feelings i guess..
------------------------
there is no poem... i don't want it to be negative (LOL)
++++++++++++++++
p.s. i care about everyone, it is my humanity. last night i did what i believed was best for OUR VENUE/OUR NEO HOME. i don't have a dog in this fight, and don't want to hear your's barking. i care about myself too much to get involved in your shhhhh
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
I’m pushing poetry
like a hustla pushes rocks
An agent pushes jocks
trigger fingers on glocks
tick tocks on clocks
Cuz the second I stop
jabbing my jaws
to breathe and pause,
so will the applause..
and i'd be forced to see my flaws
------------------------------------------
this slam thing, as much as i like it, is deadly. it's an effing game. it's survivor meets american idol meets prostitution. use your tongue, lips and mouth to out wit, out play, out perform. PERIOD. it doesn't mean you're the best poet. you're just the best poet to 5 judges (or you gave the best mind fck to 5 Johns!) that night.. Hell, i've loved it (slam) like the next when i've won, so i know how good it feels. but i also loved it when i lost. ;0) (LOL)
----------------------------------------
i am a poet,
lost..
i prostitute my poems for props
and jaw drops;
never considering what i think is hot
others may feel is NOT!!!
--------------------------------
i've lost associates (if we were REALLY friends a score or team membership could never divide us) over a simple slam and 50.00 dollars. My ex would say, "i bought you cheap or i bought my freedom from you rather cheaply."
_________________
"Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow-ripening fruit." -- Aristotle (4th century B.C.)
------------------------------
this is my motto. thanks Selah for recognizing that. last night she and i had a brief conversation at the bar. she acknowledged a simple truth, my truth regarding friendship. i told her i truly like everyone i meet, i just don't consider everyone to be a friend. and associates feel it MOST when i am amongst my friends. at times, i generally want more friends, yet it takes time to develop a relationship based on "mutual honesty, trust and respect." and that's what i want. there are people who would consider someone their friend and generally not trust or respect them. think about it for a moment.
my friends and i respect each other enough to trust that we can tell each other anything honestly!! thank g.o.d. i have that.
======================
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear. John 4:18
Baby, I am no longer afraid. I'm enjoying the ride, and loving what we are becoming..
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Patricia Smith on Sunday night at 501 Studios.

monkeying around and grateful

thankfullllllll....

01) a beautiful weekend with the love of my life. yes, even, despite, in spite..still..
02) (re)learning how remain friends and lovers
03) peace be still (trying and learning)
04) a sister's unyielding love.
05) a superwoman and a little fist of fury (we call each other friend and family.. i love you ladies!)
06) the monkey on my back..
07) poems ( i think i might be writing something like them again)
08) patricia smith is MOVING TO AUSTIN!!!!
09) facebook my new alpha addiction
10) missing people.. yes really! i miss you MO, langston, chelle, kotalian/korim, faye, cuzin sarah and dave.. ( and my new poetic heart, perception!!) u still represent a good place and space in my life!
11) looking forward
12) memories
13) a language the angels understand (patient wisdom through prayer)
14. my G.O.D. (good orderly direction) it's soooo good when u listen.
----------------
often i wish for clarity, then recognize it for what it truly is, KNOWLEDGE THROUGH EXPERIENCE.
---------------
god, if i knew all the answers,would i then search for questions?
--------------------

hay algunas empresas mono pasa

I've got a monkey on my back,
a lion in my heart,
and a frog in my throat.
you, my deadly addiction,
pushing
pumping
poison
through
what was once
my spirit...
while the courageous fire
roars,
my cowardice
stretches
jumps
and cuts
my breaths
choking
wisdom
and words
leaving
me
as quiet
as a mouse.
there is an elephant
in the room
not wanting to be ignored,
aggressively
banging,
breaking,
feelings
we hold dear..
causing my stomach
to churn
black butterflies
to scarlet caterpillars..
love's distant yearning
stubborn as a mule,
holds
steadfast,
lugging
pulling
it's weighted burden.
passion
blind as a bat
can't see past
you,
even in the still of night..
the cat's got my tongue
and the bull's in the china closet,
curiousity has murdered
it's last cat....
to be continued....
_____________***************_____________
i had no earthly idea where that was going.. (LOL)
__________________^^^^^^^^^^^^_____________
Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content. Helen Keller

without saying it....

sometimes, i wish i knew how to put things together. the right words to express how i feel without saying it. and while i like to think i'm good with words, i know plenty who are a lot better. i used to think i knew how to express myself. i've learned that when it really matters, despite my vocabulary and "charisma" (LOL!!) i fail miserably.

below, an exercise from 6months or so ago. i found it while cleaning my desk top. i've learned there are constants in my writing: blues, purples and reds. shadows. hearts. i want to move away from that, as perhaps i am limiting myself in communication and in my writing style.

Being in Love - "I am stilled in the shadowed image of you, silenced by your beauty. You simply a blue print of past lives birthed in this moment. Simply existing in the existence, searching for memories recaptured in laugh lines with no laughter, footsteps with no steps, heart beats with no beats. Simply there for no reason. Heart wanting what it wants."

-------------------------------

Making Love - "let me lie within your shade, and feel the weight of your leaves as the rustle and cascade atop my nakedness. i feel your cool crisp against my skin. delicate. i hear the soft moans as you arch, bend and sway in the breeze. cover me. cradle me. protect me. i still find pleasure under my elm tree."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunshine – "Night’s nemesis rose half past dawn peering through the darkness. Arms open, stretched across the horizon. Embracing ."

------------------------------

Melting Ice – "Chilled intensity rushing through core, slipping into oblivion. Smoke sneaks through teeth, glides atop tongue, and slips, trips past pout of your lips. Voracious invitations drip insatiably toward the dip in your grin."
---------------------------

while my teeth are looking damn good, my braces have made my lips bigger... talk about free 'efing non-desired or wanted surgery.. i didn't want bigger lips!!! ugh

--------------------------

superwoman if you fly by... i still got you, and am thinking of you.

--------------------------

mary of bethany II

i was once some one's daughter,
held tightly against protective bosoms,
feed dreams that seem
more than a million miles away...
i have aged laying on my back
traveled rail tracks;
snatched from tribal familiar..
stolen before i ever knew my name.
they tattooed highways and bi-ways,
along my veins,
i human cargo,
modernized slave...
i was once some one's daughter.....

hazey

i peel our nakedness

from sunset streaked

tears and

egyptian cotton sheets,

hazed purples, reds, and blues..

to reach for the shadowed ghosts

of me and you

and ponder

sweet succulence that drips from

thighs, lips and fingertips...

(it)

cannot mask

the hated joy

of pleasured pain

and heart pangs,

or the weight of legs

and arms,

twined tightly

against

shattered souls.

i know

u know

we know

.....................................

i offer all that i am to all we could become

........................................

often over-rated, sometimes tears are nothing more that ... tears